


love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling

by heibai



Series: monster mash, graveyard smash, halloween bash [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Church Boy Mark Lee, Elements of Mind Control, Incubus Haechan, M/M, catholic guilt: the movie, heibai's halloween bonanza, implied dicc succing in a confessional chamber, mark Bottoms because i say so, this idea has been living in my head rent free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heibai/pseuds/heibai
Summary: "... andDomine non sum dignusshould be on the lips and in the hearts of those who receive it.”-Oscar Wilde, definitely probably about sucking dick.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: monster mash, graveyard smash, halloween bash [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977901
Comments: 3
Kudos: 56





	love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling

**Author's Note:**

> the [tumblr post](https://wildelyinappropriate.tumblr.com/post/92335597067/love-is-a-sacrament-that-should-be-taken-kneeling) that inspired this mess

The hall has been long emptied since the last mass ended not even thirty minutes ago. Not a soul left behind except for the altar server busy tidying up the choir loft, and not a sound except for the drops of water dripping from the long unmended leak at the far left corner of the building.

Mark hated the days when he had to close up shop. Especially on days like these. Slow, with a storm raging quietly outside.

The lack of sunlight, even when it was still 2 in the afternoon, didn’t help the already yellowing ambient lighting of the church interior as he slowly returned the hymn books at equal intervals on the wooden pews. But that was not the problem. 

Faint hisses would flit from gaps on the walls, causing the rows of yet still unblown candles on the altar to flicker. Thin, moist wind disturbed the edges of his robe and he imagined it to be like a cold finger trailing across the back of his neck. The baby hairs on his nape began to rise. 

Nobody was left in the main building. Not even the caretaker. 

But that was not the problem.

The hall of this church has a little secret. A small whispering spot, on which one can stand and hear words being hushed from all the way across the room. Some say it’s caused by the slightly domed structure of the ceiling. Some say it’s the holy ghost at work. Mark, though, Mark _knew_ it was caused by a heresy. At least _his_ whispering spot did.

So when he heard a disembodied whistle mingling with the drips of rainwater, Mark knew better than to fear for something manifesting right behind him. Even if the sound _seemed_ to be too close for comfort, as if lips were waiting to press against his earlobe if he were to just tilt his head a little bit sideways, Mark knew that the culprit was actually hidden behind the thick, wooden doors that protected him from the rest of the structure. Protected _it_ from the rest of the church that would’ve instantly set it ablaze. 

Fighting against all nerve endings that started to flare in a combination of fear and excitement, Mark struggled to calmly turn around and zoned in on the small slit on the door of the furthest confessional chamber.

Pure darkness stared back at him. But when the litany of candles were all blown out in one breathless hush, he saw the unmistakable glint of impatience from around the copper lining of the peeking slit with their last dying flicker, and also the rim of a set of glassy eyes that quickly disappeared back into the shadows.

Now _that._ That was finally his problem.

_

  
  


When he peeked into it, the confessional chamber appeared to be empty. The brief glimpse of the barren interior that he caught when a little bit of light from the hall managed to seep into the booth confirmed his initial observation. But Mark wasted no time doubting. After hearing the door click to a close behind him, he snapped.

“What are you doing.” His voice came out loud, way too loud, especially when confined to such tight space. He suppressed the urge to flinch when he heard a hint of resentment from the way the walls echoed back his words, “how dare you show up here.” 

_“I miss you too.”_ Another whistling tune, this time in the form of an exceptionally bright whisper, fleeted so close to his ears. By that point, Mark was too far strung that he couldn’t stop himself from turning around in shock to face the person, the _being_ that yes, this time, really did materialise right behind his back.

Arms suddenly slipped around his torso, and there was also a smile, planted directly on his cheek. Mark had both his arms raised because _a hug_ was the last thing he wanted in that situation, but the cramped space, and the unnatural momentum to which the _being_ moved, prevented him from doing nothing much but accept the biting cold that started to seep past his robes from the limbs that were wrapped so tightly around him. 

“Fuck you.” Not a person to be swept away by a grand gesture, Mark didn’t find it hard to spit, figuratively, at the abomination that was clinging against him. 

The humanoid abomination who’ve started to laugh amusedly at Mark’s outburst. “And to think _you’re_ the child of the Lord?” His lips were pressed lightly against the side of Mark’s neck when he spoke, and the shiver it resulted was enough for Mark to struggle himself free.

“13 months, _Donghyuk,”_ Mark said as he swatted away all of Donghyuk’s attempt of getting his hold back around him. In the thick darkness of the chamber, it wasn’t as easy as it sounded, “or is it Haechan? _Or is it Li,-”_

_“Enough.”_ The sound that came out of Donghyuk’s voice didn’t sound human. The shrill words acting like a frayed rope that instantly bind Mark’s arms to the side of his body while at the same time, his eyes grew darker, even more so than the shadows of the room. Those were two wormholes that would’ve transported Mark straight to hell if he wanted to. But fear, or more appropriately, intimidation, was the last thing in Mark’s mind at that moment, even when he could feel the murderous aura spewing out of Donghyuk’s pores in droves. 

He wanted to yell back at him. Profanities and protests and curses that perhaps would sound like _‘you witch! This is unfair! To use your Voice the moment we met after such a long time?! Fuck you and your demon brethrens!’_ if only Mark’s voice wasn’t being suppressed within his throat by a feeling that was most similar to having a nasty strep.

“I don’t wanna talk about _that.”_ But then, just as suddenly, they all disappeared. The rope, the phantom fist driven inside his throat, the sense that for how he looked and acted, the being before him was a monster as old as time itself, all melted with a simple _snap_ of his fingers. “Any further questions, you ask your _daddy.”_

Even in the dark, Mark could imagine the wicked grin on Donghyuk’s lips as he said those words. And seemingly him too, could sense how Mark had just rolled his eyes in response, proven by how he decided to proceed with his egging. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, _Father,_ isn’t it?” He suddenly felt fingers against his chin, even if he swore just a second ago Donghyuk was standing at least 3 steps away from him. When Mark naturally flinched at that, Donghyuk scoffed and another chip from what was seemingly his 13 months worth of frustration was spilled over when he stomped around in a tight circle and yelled, “no! Literally, your fucking DAD- SENT ME BACK- TO HELL.”

“... so it worked?”

“WHY DO YOU THINK I WENT MISSING FOR 13 MONTHS YOU FUCK FACE.”

The silence that fell after Donghyuk finished his tirade was oddly… light. It was occasionally broken by the sound of their breathing, and consequently the rustling of the cheap, shiny material of his robe that rhythmically brought them down to a calmer spot. 

Mark’s vision has started to adjust to the darkness, and the sliver of light from the peeking slit landed right across Donghyuk’s eyes who at that point has morphed into a more… _human_ form. No longer a weirdly tiny recreation of blackholes, they took the colour of a watered down coffee. The way they trapped Mark in them didn’t change whatsoever, though. 

He suddenly gave Mark a smile. Wide and careless, that served as a reassurance that he was alright. And that Mark didn’t need to apologise for something that wasn’t his fault in the first place. 

He still did. 

“It’s fine,” Donghyuk responded with an easy handwave. 

“You won’t pull any stupid shenanigans against my dad, won’t you?” He asked, carefully sitting down on the small armrest jutting out of the confessional screen with a tired sigh. 

_“I don’t knooow~_ it all depends on your performance toniiiight~ _”_ For all his effort of singing out his teasing, Donghyuk only got a kick on his shin in return.

“You’re literally surrounded by buckets of holy water in this place. Like, don’t try me.” 

Donghyuk, who, until then has been hopping around on his un-kicked leg like a deranged jack-in-a-box, suddenly stopped on his track and looked at Mark with his eyes squinted. But before Mark was able to ask him what his problem was, Donghyuk reaped his words clean off his throat. His breath too, while we’re at it, when he let himself fall against Mark, caging him in the already cramped space with his arms framing his quickly heating face. Donghyuk’s clothes reeked of old wax and wood varnish. When he breathed down his neck, sulphur and cracked ozone. It mingled with the leftover notes of frankincense burned during the mass and Mark could sense the suffocation long before it settled into his lungs.

“You know they do nothing to me.” Donghyuk purred. And in his panic, Mark could only answer with words riddled thickly with giggles. Involuntary giggles. Like those that would come out of him when he’s tickled. 

For some reason, that fact just made him feel worse.

“They give you rashes. That’s enough.”

“Rope gives _you_ rashes. Are you terrified of them?” Donghyuk drew out his words, nearly whining. It stirred something within him, the same something he’s wasted the last 13 months beaten to submission. “If I remember it correctly, you are not. Should I check again?”

Seemingly annoyed by his constant giggling and wiggling, Donghyuk went on and gripped Mark’s face in a strong hold. It shamed him how quickly his fighting spirit petered out into a whimper. The grin on Donghyuk’s face, also, shamed him. His cool fingers felt like ice against his burning cheeks, and now that he _knows_ he’s successfully made Mark blush, he’ll never live it down for as long as he exists. 

And that meant, literally _forever._

“Shy, are we?” It was his turn to giggle, when he saw how hard Mark was trying to suppress the shivers that ran up his back when Donghyuk trailed his fingers down the small patch of skin peeking through the high collars of his robe. Though it was small only for just a little while, as Donghyuk deftly unhooked the fasteners with an easy flick of just his thumb and index finger. “I’m still good at this~.” he happily hummed, much to Mark’s disdain, volume increasing with each hook he unfastened, until he reached the collar of his undershirt where then his fingers travelled across the ridge of his collarbone. Donghyuk laughed when Mark sharply gripped his wrist to prevent him from travelling anywhere lower. “So I guess you didn’t seek the comfort of others when I was gone?”

“You seduced me.”

“Yes? And?” Seemingly sensing that Mark didn’t mind if he directed his hand _upward,_ Donghyuk dragged his palm up the expanse of his blushing neck before stopping right underneath his chin. His nails dug into the soft, rarely touched skin and Donghyuk began to _squeeze._ “Again, if I remember it correctly, you… enjoyed my courtings.”

_“Stop.”_

“Haven’t had any complaints, right?” He proudly said, before suddenly pushing his hand backward, hard enough that Mark let out a surprised gasp when his head collided against the metal mesh behind him. “How about that one time during bible camp when you nearly passed out during our fourth,-”

Mark put a cap on Donghyuk’s _nonsensical_ ramble with a kiss, straight on his frozen lips. His free hand struck accurately on his shirt’s collar before he pulled Donghyuk in, with all his worth, and shamelessly captured that sickening, little grin of his into an open mouthed kiss that completely failed at hiding his repressed hunger whatsoever. Because there was not an ounce of awkwardness in the way he moved. No nose bumped, no teeth clattered, just the muscle memory of his tongue, expertly trailing on and around spots he perfectly remembered would lead Donghyuk to tighten the grip around his neck. Everything, _every single one of his meticulously locked up guilt,_ rushed out of their respective prison cells together with the reluctant moan he let out when Donghyuk gave his lower lip a sharp bite. He didn’t let go until he was sure they both could taste blood the next time they dove into each other. 

Involuntarily, _or so he said,_ his legs parted, allowing Donghyuk to more comfortably settle into their kiss as he’d begun to fear that the mesh wall behind them would not survive for long, what with it already beginning to yield under their combined desperation pushing against it. 

“Did you wait?” Donghyuk asked, with his voice gruff and lowered from the excitement he didn’t bother to hide. In his impatience, Donghyuk stopped being careful with the hooks on Mark’s robe and decided to just rip them open with one easy pull, letting it gather around his hips and off the ledge in a swathe of cheap silver. When he saw the jeans peeking from underneath Mark’s shirt, he tutted, “didn’t I tell you to stop _wearing_ this underneath?”

“No.” Mark answered. Snippy, just like how he captured Donghyuk’s hand when his fingers were in the middle of digging past the waist of his jeans. But it wasn’t an order for him to stop, oh no. It was a cheeky answer to the question Donghyuk first asked him. Proven from how _he_ became the one to then grab Donghyuk by the buckle of his belt, pulling him even closer as his fingers worked to rid themselves of such unnecessary thing. 

“I said, _did you wait?”_ The Voice again. But this time, Mark didn’t even try to fight the odd feeling it gave to his throat. Letting the phantom fingers scrape against the back of it, even _savoring_ the feeling of his throat straining against the mental intrusion for a brief moment before allowing them to fish the bright, prideful laugh together with the truth of what's happened to him for the last thirteen months. 

“When it rains. Everytime.” Mark ripped the belt away from the loops in one clean pull. The way Donghyuk looked at him when he triumphantly raised his arm, gripping the belt like a trophy, implied that if they _were_ to do it _that way, he wouldn’t mind at all._ But after a quick contemplation, Mark threw the belt against the far wall. Letting the sharp echoes die down before he demanded for Donghyuk to, “give me the order.”

“What for? You can do it perfectly well on your own.” As if taunting, Donghyuk pressed his knee onto the center of Mark’s crotch, exposing the firmness straining against his jeans shorts. The way he gasped when Donghyuk grinded on him even harder served as a perfect reminder of how it’s been a while since he even has to use the Voice to get him positioned where they would like it best.

But even then, his fingers trembled on their hooks around Donghyuk’s pants. “For old time’s sake,” he managed to push through. How big of a lie that was. Because at the end of the day, no matter how hard he fought it, no matter how clear the memory of their past liaison, how _excited_ he currently was, how naturally his body responded to the way Donghyuk caressed his jaw, the fact that _it’s been a while_ still haunted him like a thick cloud of diseased miasma. 

Donghyuk must’ve sensed his nerves, as when he kissed him next, he did it with so much tenderness it instantly turned Mark into a gooey mush that yielded to his hold. He chuckled as he rubbed his palm in wide circles across Mark’s back, “I’m sorry your Father has never hugged you.”

“Shut up.” His tone may be harsh. But when he pushed Donghyuk away and flicked his left earlobe to return the smile back onto his sullen face, his actions were anything but.

To that, Donghyuk sighed in defeat. “Well, tell me the magic word.”

The way he looked at Donghyuk with his wide, pleading eyes. What an overkill. But he’s nearly forgotten how beautiful Donghyuk looked when he was flustered so it was easy for him to _really_ go all the way and add a pout on top. “Please?”

In a kind response, Donghyuk ran his hand over Mark’s head, tickling his scalp with his nails and sending such powerful shivers up his whole body that the wooden platform beneath him shook. Donghyuk stopped when his fingers rested underneath his chin, tilting Mark’s head even more so upward that served as a teaser for what was to come. “What a _good_ Christian boy.”

“I’m,- I’m not Christian…? I’m Catholic.”

Donghyuk just rolled his eyes at that, before he suddenly leant in so far into Mark that he was essentially sitting on his lap when his lips pressed onto Mark’s ears. He took his time with his long inhale, and Mark could feel the naughty grin on Donghyuk’s lips as he must’ve felt how much more firm Mark’s grip on the hem of his waistband had grown. 

_“Kneel.”_

Mark groaned when the odd feeling washed over his body and reaped him of his autonomy. When control was no longer in his hands, and he could only helplessly watch as his body moved on its own, slipping past the ledge and falling to the floor with a heavy thud of his knees crashing against the wooden panels. Donghyuk raked his fingers through his hair. First gently, before suddenly he bunched a handful of strands on his crown and yanked them backward, nails digging into the tender skin of his scalp when he tilted Mark’s head so far back that he nearly tipped. His breath was taken from him in the form of a moan. He couldn’t care less. 

As he settled into his new position, Mark could see Donghyuk more clearly, with the light from the peeking slit framing his untidy hair in a golden halo. Donghyuk let out a _beautiful_ laughter at the sight sprawled out beneath him and something seemingly snapped within his psyche. _Re-snapped,_ that was, as his entire being amounted to be nothing more but a broken bone not yet healed that was easily torn apart once more when the merest pressure was applied on it. In his madness, Mark had started to slip his hands past Donghyuk’s shirt, desperately pawing at his torso with only whines escaping from his throat in a humiliating display of lust. Not that he minded. Mark can finally let go of the rein on the physical husk of his body and he planned on enjoying it till the inevitable moment when Donghyuk would have to release him from his dominion. 

When Donghyuk smiled down at him, when he pinched his jaw ever so softly to open up his mouth, nothing else mattered. No reprimands would’ve deterred him, no punishments would ever make him forget. This was his rapture, this was his calling, and no shame, no idea of sins could ever hold a candle to the devotion he held to this divine being standing upon him.

  
  


_“Serve me well, and I am with you, always.”_

**Author's Note:**

>  _//The Voice is used with permission from the spirit of Mr. Frank Herbert// //and catholicism is used with permission from me being born and raised a catholic djndjd//_  
>   
>  is this the birth of Ms. Heibai Blueballs (aka miss writes 30k of buildup and cuts to black before the explicit smut)? Pray that it is not. But maybe it is, and that's the scariest halloween horror to ever exist...?
> 
> Kickstarting my halloween bonanza with the most normal oneshot of all! the most normal!  
> from today it'll only get more and more batshit insane!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this and please do take a look at [haedal (hyuckiesuckle)'s](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25011529) take on the same concept u.u  
> (I actually birthed this prompt for a fic exchange but i.... can't get it out of my mind that i just had to write it down myself l m a o o o o)
> 
> hmu @ my twitter [@moon__soil](https://twitter.com/moon__soil)  
> or @ my tumblr (which nowadays I frequent more often) [@heibaihuangzi](https://heibaihuangzi.tumblr.com/)


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